Montressor Giovanni
|text1 = Montressor Giovanni |item2 = |text2 = Ma'dran }}Montressor Giovanni is, by most accounts, among the merrier of men in times of strife such as the second coming of the gods, not because he is joyful of their return, but rather he believes that the mortal races will be brought to peace in the end. Only a few years before, Montressor was found in a ditch near the settlement known as Witchaven, having no memory of who he was or why he was there. He spent several months in Witchaven, learning to play the lute and rebuilding himself as Montressor Giovanni, Bard and Thespian. He set off on his quest to find out who he was before he had been found that fateful morning in Witchaven. Unbeknownst to Montressor, he is in truth the Mahjarrat known as Ma’dran, former heir to the Skchaelos Clan on his homeworld of Freneskae. Soon after he had fought in a bloody civil war against his half-brother Tyrannus for control over the Clan, a portal opened nearby, producing the jackal-headed Kharidian deity known as Icthlarin, of whom offered for the Mahjarrat to come to the plane known as Gielinor to fight on his behalf against the god known as Zaros. After emerging from this war triumphant, the Mahjarrat rejoiced. That is, at least, before Icthlarin claimed the souls of the wights belonging to one of the Mahjarrat, the one known as Sliske, of whom renounced his fealty to Icthlarin, entering Zaros’s service. One by one, the other Mahjarrat, including Ma’dran and his brothers, followed Sliske’s path into the Empty Lord’s service. It was not long before one of the Mahjarrat had the nerve to make an attempt to rise up against Zaros; the one known as Zamorak. After attaining a large gathering of followers, Zamorak succeeded in usurping Zaros, growing in power as he did so. Zamorak was banished by the other gods, for a time, but his loyalists remained, torturing Ma’dran and his brother, Kathlaron, of whom remained loyal to Zaros. Zamorak soon returned to Gielinor, now a god. His followers used Kathlaron against Ma’dran, forcing him to fight on their behalf. So, for a time, Ma’dran fought alongside the Zamorakians until captured by a group of Zarosian loyalists, posing as Saradominist humans. Ma’dran then fought alongside them until the end of the war, finding that Kathlaron was now missing, his whereabouts unknown by both the Zarosians and Zamorakians. This led Ma’dran to believe that his brother was dead. Ma’dran spent the next several centuries in exile as a human, having not attended several rituals of rejuvenation since the God Wars. It was soon that Ma’dran made his way to Kandarin, finding himself in Witchaven. It was then that he saw a light, of which soothed him, allowing him to enter a state of bliss before losing consciousness, losing all of the memories from his past. Montressor is played by Emyris Bayne, originally made to be a more serious character, but has since evolved into something more alive and free, despite his past as a Mahjarrat. Biography Early Life on Freneskae Birth and Early Childhood Freneskae; a world marked by constant warfare and hellish terrain as far as the eye can see. This is the birthplace of the Children of Mah, the Mahjarrat. Within this dark world of ashen plains lived the Clan of Skchaelos, led by a ruthless, barbaric, sadistic Mahjarrat known as Hyllcroth with no sense of honor nor tradition, of whom was soon to father a son into the world. His bride, Ellisike, wept in pain for hours leading to the birth of their first-born son. She believed that she was to die that day, giving birth to the progeny of the monster that her father had arranged for her to be bound to all those years before. Hyllcroth named the child Ma'dran, after his predecessor, a brave Mahjarrat who had raised Hyllcroth as his own, having taught him all that he knew to this day. Hyllcroth harbored the diluted belief that, under his influence, Ma'dran was destined to change Freneskae in ways that no Mahjarrat could conceive of. From the time that Ma'dran was able to stand, he was made to train and excel academically as both a strategist and as a combatant, his favored weapon being a rod made from various metals made to incapacitate his foes. Ma'dran, as Hyllcroth and his tutors soon discovered, was gifted in the use of ancient magics and hand-to-hand combat, much to Hyllcroth's pleasure. Ma'dran, however, secretly resented Hyllcroth, feeling that he was not truly respected, but was rather a pawn in his plans for the Skchaelos Clan. Hyllcroth was determined to make sure that Ma'dran, son of Hyllcroth, heir to the name of chieftain of the Skchaelos clan of the plains, would not disappoint. The Second Son It was not long until a second son was born to Hyllcroth and into the Skchaelos Clan. This son became known as Kathlaron, the second and final child from the womb of Ellisike. The life of Ellisike was the price of bearing Kathlaron into a world of bloodshed and war, forcing Hyllcroth to seek another bride, one to take Ellisike's place as his mate and to raise his young, perhaps even to birth more heirs to the Skchaelos Clan. Kathlaron grew to childhood, Ma'dran out-aging him as an adolescent, showing a certain aptitude for ancient magics, beyond that of Ma'dran's skills. Hyllcroth, though pleased with Kathlaron's process as a young mage, favored Ma'dran as his preferred pawn in gaining glory and power for the clan. Like Ma'dran, Kathlaron soon came to resent Hyllcroth for his sadistic ways, though preferred to act as though he respected and showed loyalty to Hyllcroth, knowing that his brother would make a far better leader than Hyllcroth ever could have been. A Love Discarded Ma'dran soon came into courtship with another Mahjarrat from an allied clan named Vaetherya, of whom was the daughter of the chieftain of her clan. Hyllcroth did not approve of their courtship, finding that he, too, desired Vaetherya for himself. Ma'dran began seeing Vaetherya in secret, in spite of Hyllcroth's wishes. “Kathlaron, go home,” Ma’dran uttered as he made his way to the outskirts of the camp, “Father will question your whereabouts.” '' ''Kathlaron, merely a child, walked close behind his brother. “And he will not question yours, brother?” '' ''“Father believes that I am out hunting, brother. I’m actually going out to see Vaetherya.” '' ''Kathlaron bowed his head. “I see.” Ma’dran turned, seeing that his brother had stopped. “I’ll head back, then. Tell her I said hello.” with that, Kathlaron turned back the way he came. Ma’dran approached the rendezvous point where he would meet his love. As her figure greeted his eyes, he smiled to himself. “Hello!” he shouted. Vaetherya waved to him, though not enthusiastically. Ma’dran approached, noticing that something had to be wrong. “Vaetherya.” '' ''She bowed her head as she spoke. “Ma’dran…” '' ''Ma’dran tilted his head a bit, placing a hand on his lover’s cheek. “What is wrong?” She looked into his sanguine red eyes, tears in her own. “My father…he…” She collapsed into Ma’dran’s arms, crying. '' ''He embraced Vaetherya, attempting to soothe her. “What happened? What did your father do?” '' ''She continued to cry. “He arranged for me to be married…” Ma’dran’s eyes widened. He placed his hands on her cheeks as she looked to him again. '' ''“Who? To whom is he marrying you off to?” '' ''She looked away from him. “Ma’dran…It’s…Hyllcroth.” After learning that his love would marry his father, Ma’dran became numb. He stormed into his father's hall, demanding an explanation as to why he had arranged such a marriage. Hyllcroth struck his firstborn son down, stating that it was not his place to question him, and that if he did so again, he would have his hand removed from his wrist and disown him as his son. Reluctantly, Ma'dran remained silent, knowing that once he became chief, he would be nothing like his father and would respect his people. Ma'dran, however found that he could not function knowing that Vaetherya was trapped by Hyllcroth and her own father. Ma'dran tried to convince Vaetherya to flee, but she could not, for going against her father would mean her execution; she had no choice. The wedding commenced and soon, a son was born to Hyllcroth and Vaetherya; a child by the name of Tyrannus. The Skchaelean Wars The Birth of Rebellion Ma’dran and Kathlaron became adults, Tyrannus becoming an adolescent with a cruel, rebellious streak. Kathlaron became a skilled battlemage, though he was known to be very worrisome, though wise. Hyllcroth had recently died, thus passing down the name of chieftain to Ma’dran. Kathlaron, having respected his brother from a young age and being respected by his brother for his foresight, was given the honor of leader of their military forces, answering only to Ma’dran. Kathlaron found his brother’s rule agreeable and stayed ever-loyal to him. Tyrannus, on the other hand, desired the power and honor for himself. He once tried to turn Ma’dran’s friends and influential forces in the clan against him, but was discovered and imprisoned. Ma’dran ruled to banish his brother and those loyal to him into the wilderness to fend for themselves with no food nor drink to survive on. However, these loyalists soon found bandit clans in the Freneskaen wilderness and joined them, forging a clan to rival and destroy Ma’dran and those loyal to him. It was not long until a years-long war was waged between the Clans of Tyrannus and the Clans supporting the banner of Skchaelos. Many lives were taken in this war, including that of Vaetherya, of whom still served Ma’dran. Ma’dran and Kathlaron led their army of allies into many victories and into just as many failures. But one night, the forces of the clans allied under the banner of Skchaelos managed to siege Tyrannus in the ruins of an ancient stronghold. The war was almost over; everything would return to normal. At least, so the forces of Skchaelos believed. The Jackal God's Proposal It was that evening that the siege had began, everyone under Ma’dran’s banner was celebrating, though Kathlaron had yet to show to the celebration. One of Ma’dran’s allies, Ukthreya entered the dining tent of which had been raised in accordance of their celebration, searching for Ma’dran. “Lord Ma’dran!” '' ''Ma’dran turned. “Ukthreya! Please, get a drink, some food, you’ve earned--” '' ''“--No, my lord,” Ukthreya interrupted, “Kathlaron…he found something in a nearby settlement, come quickly!” '' ''Ma’dran dropped his goblet, taking his staff. “Let us not waste any time. Lead me to this settlement.” Ma'dran and Ukthreya made their way to the settlement, seeing a humanoid creature with the head of a jackal. This being introduced himself as Icthlarin, the god of the dead on the plane known as Gielinor. This jackal-headed god made a proposition to the Mahjarrat; he needed their help in combating against another god, one by the name of Zaros. In exchange for this service, Icthlarin promised them what they truly desired; warfare. Ma'dran, as well as his brothers and General Ukthreya, followed the other Mahjarrat in swearing fealty to the jackal-god for the promise of war. Icthlarin was pleased, having already opened a portal to his realm. The Mahjarrat entered the gate, never to see their home of Freneskae again, but overjoyed in the promise of a new realm to conquer. Arrival Upon Gielinor The Zarosian-Kharidian War Darkness. Ma’dran felt as though he was conscious, yet unconscious at the same time, remembering only the darkness of the void he had entered. The next time he would open his eyes, he would be greeted by his brothers, the loyal and the traitorous. Tyrannus called a truce, seeing as he believed that they would never return to Freneskae and that the three should remain together for the time-being. Kathlaron feared that their traitor brother could not be trusted, especially after his efforts to kill Ma’dran, but Ma’dran believed otherwise; he was one to believe in second chances, after all. Ma’dran looked around, seeing many of his creed about him. How many Mahjarrat had followed into the portal? This was unknown to the brothers, but to them, it mattered not. The portal had faded, none among them knew how to re-open it. Freneskae was lost, along with all that the brothers had ever known. But there was much work to accomplish for their new god, Icthlarin, and little time to spare. The Mahjarrat took up arms to fight against Zaros, of whom was invading from the north. The war against Zaros lasted for many years, the Mahjarrat gaining names such as “Stern Judges” and “the faceless ones”. Ma’dran found these names to have a certain melody to them. Ukthreya, unfortunately, was killed in battle, leaving only the three brothers as arrivals from the Skchaelos Clan, but many other Mahjarrat remained. Zaros's Empire After the war, Icthlarin took away the wights of one of the Mahjarrat, the one known as Sliske, to return to the underworld. Sliske, as far as Ma’dran knew, left and forged an alliance with Zaros, of whom offered the Mahjarrat power in his growing Empire. Other Mahjarrat, including Ma’dran and his brothers, left Icthlarin in favor of Zaros and his promises of power and war. Ma’dran soon climbed to the rank of commander in Zaros’s army, both of his brothers came under his rule as sergeants. Ma’dran had great respect for Zaros and his ways, embracing this new religion and way of life, as his brothers did. Ma’dran’s battalion soon came under the command of one of Zaros’s fiercest and most powerful Mahjarrat generals; one by the name of Zamorak. Zaros’s vast empire prospered and became more powerful by the day, but many of the Mahjarrat were not content, including General Zamorak. Kathlaron feared that Zamorak, judging from his harsh demeanor and choices in the battlefield, may turn on Zaros. Ma’dran had learned to listen to his younger brother in the past, and was not about to stop. Tyrannus, however, was fiercely loyal to his general, and would follow him to the abyss and back if he had to. Kathlaron and Ma’dran soon became wary of their brother again, and wouldn’t put it past him to turn on them again like he had on Freneskae. Zamorak soon hatched a plot to usurp the Empty Lord, many Mahjarrat and loyalists coming to his call, including the arrogant an powerhungry Tyrannus. As Ma’dran, Kathlaron, and many others remained loyal to Zaros, Zamorak would soon place his plans into action. The Betrayal One evening, Zamorak and his hordes of followers attacked. Those still loyal to Zaros, Ma'dran and Kathlaron included, pooled in the throneroom, ready for Zamorak's arrival. Ma'dran saw in Zamorak's hands a weapon that Ma'dran had heard of, but never thought to see with his own eyes; the Elder Staff. While Zamorak fought, his loyalists detained and kept those loyal to Zaros diverted, Ma'dran diverted by his own brother, the traitorous Tyrannus. Zamorak had impaled Zaros in the back, but Zaros continued to fight. He grabbed the Scourge by his throat, choking him. However, Zaros lost balance, causing the Elder Staff to impale both he and the traitor alike. Ma'dran watched as the staff transferred Zaros's power to Zamorak. Zaros retreated from his body, while Zamorak had his first taste of true power. Zamorak's followers imprisoned Ma'dran and Kathlaron, among others, in an attempt to convert them to his cause. Ma'dran and his brother, though tortured, refused. The two remained imprisoned by Zamorak's followers for quite some time. The War of the Gods Mixed Loyalties In the meantime, other gods fought over Gielinor, but came to a truce for a time in order to banish Zamorak from Gielinor. However, he soon returned to Gielinor, now a true god. He called upon his warriors, declaring war on all who opposed his rule. The Zamorakians continued to torture the brothers, coming to the realization that the only way to get to Ma'dran was through his family; through his brother, Kathlaron. Tyrannus, having been Ma'dran's primary torturer, informed Ma'dran that if he did not yield to Zamorak's call, they would kill Kathlaron. Taken Hostage by Allies Left with little choice, Ma'dran reluctantly agreed to the terms that the Zamorakians had set for him to follow. He spent centuries in the service of those that had opposed he and his god, the Empty Lord, knowing that Zaros would return to smite his enemies and those who had conspired against him once the time came. After several long centuries of working alongside those that he had vowed to destroy in the name of the Empty Lord, Ma'dran was captured by a group of renegade Zarosians posing as followers of the self-proclaimed god of order, Saradomin. Leading this clan of rouges and renegades was an older Mahjarrat in the guise of a human mage and scholar known only as Giovanni. Ma'dran explained to these renegades that the Mahjarrat loyalists of Zamorak had forced him into their servitude, having threatened his brother's life had he acted otherwise. Giovanni, though wary of Ma'dran at first, finally decided to offer Ma'dran a place in his clan, of which Ma'dran promptly accepted. Giovanni eventually came to trust Ma'dran, thinking of him more as a son than as a footsoldier. They spent the next several years hunting down Zamorakian caravans and militia in desperate attempts to find the whereabouts of Kathlaron and his captors. Exiled from War Ma'dran and Giovanni had eventually discovered one caravan of the Zamorakians that seemed to carry something beyond important to them. Ma'dran had sensed that the cargo being caried by this caravan had an aura of powerful proportions; a Mahjarrat. Ma'dran strongly believed that this aura belonged to his brother, Kathlaron, but Giovanni was sceptical, stating that it could be any Mahjarrat for all that they knew. But Ma'dran knew his brother's aura, he recognized it. In an impulsive act, Ma'dran left the clan of renegades that had become his family in the midst of the night, as they slept, to investigate. Though Ma'dran had been overcome with excitement and joy in the thought of liberating his brother, he soon came to realize that he had become the fool. As he drew near to the caravan, he was ambushed and surrounded by warriors and mages of Zamorak. He bit his tongue, realizing his fault much too late. It was then that he saw his brother; not Kathlaron, as he had believed, but rather Tyrannus, of whom towered above in his full form. Ma'dran turned his head to the cliffs behind where he stood, having heard the sound of bagpipes in the distance, gradually coming closer. Ma'dran smiled; a number Giovanni's men carried such into battle in order to help the men to march upon their foes. It was not long before the clan of renegades drew toward Tyrannus's men, nearly fifty-strong and more than eager to liberate Ma'dran from the Zamorakians. Though Giovanni's men fought valiantly, they were no match for Tyrannus's forces, falling one by one to Zamorakian blades and spells. Ma'dran fell unconscious, recieving a blow from one of Tyrannus's spells during the conflict. He awoke to see Giovanni's head, in full form, adorning the tip of a wooden spike, stuck into the dusty soil. Tyrannus grinned as Ma'dran awoke to find his mentor now dead and dishonored. Ma'dran was forced to watch as the survivors of the clan were torn apart by spells cast upon them by Tyrannus's battlemages. Tyrannus impaled him with his bladed staff, leaving him to die. Ma'dran, however, was able to escape the ashen wastes that had hosted the deaths of his friends, forced into exile, setting off to find the ritual marker so that he my hibernate until the time of rejuvenation came again, swearing that he would have Tyrannus's head on a spike when he regained his strength. Among the Fremennik New Kinsmen After the War of Gods, as he would remember it, Ma’dran embarked upon a lonely path, neither followed nor led by anyone. The gods that had fought in the war had been banished, but Ma’dran still felt hunted, if not by the gods themselves, then by their followers. It was not long before Ma’dran came across humans of whom, unlike many of their creed, he respected for their valor and skill in combat; the Fremennik. Ma’dran donned a new visage in order to live among these men strangely reminiscent of his own people, both amused by them and showing them a degree of respect that he had not given any human in decades. Ma’dran became the hunter known as Grimvar Vargrsblood, selling beast hides and fur armours to his new kinsmen for use in battle. Forsaking the Devil's Craft "Grimvar," Bjorklin said, "may I ask you a question?" At this moment, Grimvar had been chopping wood for the firepit located within the longhall. "Aye, of course, kinsman; what do you wish to know?" Bjorklin sighed, leaning against the fence. "When you first came to us, you said that you were from the island of Miscellania?" "Aye?" Bjorklin shifted a bit. "Can you tell me a bit about it? You did live there, after all, no?" Grimvar paused, looking to his kinsman. "Bjorklin...have I not told you that it pains me to think of my past there?" "...for you left on bad terms," Bjorklin rolled his eyes, "I know." "Then why ask?" Bjorklin shrugged. "No reason, really...I have a cousin over in Miscellania, says he's never heard the name Grimvar Vargrsblood before in his life." Grimvar froze, his fingers flexing and curling around the hilt of the axe that he held. "No doubt because my name was not Grimvar Vargrsblood when I lived there." "Ah, yes. It was Ma'dran, was it not?" Grimvar's fingers tightened around the wooden hilt of the axe. "So...you know my name, then...and you know what I am, no doubt..." "Aye, I found one of your journals. So, you're one of the moonclan, then..?" Grimvar, though shocked, nodded, both relieved by the falseness of Bjorklin's assumptions and in a state of worry due to the fact that those of the moonclan were hated among the Fremennik. "Aye...I came here to start again...with the ways of old set forth by the Fremennik, where it all began...I wished to forsake the devil's craft." Bjorklin nodded. "You have been a good friend to me, Grimvar Vargrsblood, so here is what I will do; I will not reveal you to the clan, for that is your action to take should you choose to take it. However, should you use the devil's craft at all, no matter what for, I will reveal you to the elders without room for hesitation. Understood?" Grimvar nodded. "Understood." "Good," Bjorklin grunted, setting of to his home, leaving Grimvar alone. Banished to the Road Ma’dran thrived in his new home with the Fremennik people, gladly learning anything that they could teach him about methods of combat, imparting what he knew upon them in exchange. He learned better how to hunt, how to use a blade, how to fish, anything and everything that the Fremennik did in common life. Years after Ma’dran had joined the Fremennik, rumors spread of a clan of raiders with intent against them passing through the area. The resident Fremennik, including ‘Grimvar Vargrsblood’, took up arms against these raiders, traveling through the plains to find them. Eventually, the warriors located them and struck in the midst of the night. Ma’dran used a combination of Fremennik combat and magic taught to him by Kathlaron to defeat those that stood against him. After defeating the raiders, Ma’dran’s new kinsmen bore their spears and blades, declaring him as a traitor to their people for the use of forbidden magics, casting him from their clan. Ma’dran found that he had nowhere to go but to the road again. When a Brother Dies... It was late into the Fourth Age when Ma’dran sensed a disturbance, similar to something of great power simply fading away. Ma’dran came to realize that what he had sensed was the demise of a younger, more powerful Mahjarrat than himself; he sensed the fall of Tyrannus. This surprised him, seeing as he had sensed him a mere seventy-six years before, when he had last rejuvenated. Ma’dran was not present at this rejuvenation, though he sensed that Tyrannys was more powerful than ever at this time. Ma’dran was surprised, though not displeased that Tyrannus had been killed. After all, it was he who had tortured and beaten he and Kathlaron during the dawn of the War of Gods. Ma’dran, however, could not help but question what had killed Tyrannus. Even on Freneskae, Tyrannus was not reliant upon the others of his race, and on Gielinor, he tended to avoid them still. Tyrannus was cautious, only meddling in the affairs of humans thus far. Surely a human could not kill a recently rejuvenated Mahjarrat. Nonetheless, Ma’dran resolved to learn from this; if a young and powerful Mahjarrat such as Tyrannus could be killed on this fertile world, excessive precautions would likely be wise. The Politician An Attempt at Politics Hundreds of years had past since the fall of Tyrannus. After having enacted extreme caution over the past several centuries, Ma’dran believed it time to begin rebuilding himself. He traveled to the city of Ardougne, a land once plagued with the sovereignty of one of Zamorak’s loyal agents; the Mahjarrat known as Hazeel. Ardougne had since rose from the ashes of Hazeel’s influence, and grew in its stability. Ma’dran, having once been considered as nobility to the people of the Skchaelos Clan of Freneskae, began to accumulate in wealth as he campaigned for an ambassadorial position, in hopes that political influence over these humans would allow him to attain some shreds of his former glory once more. This was, however, before Ma’dran came to recognize just how little he knew of the human mind and its temperments. As he continued down this path, Ma’dran slowly began to lose his influence and wealth. He made attempts to generate more wealth, gambling with anyone who could afford to do so. Luck Run Dry Five men sat around the oaken table, Ma’dran among them in his human guise known as Laertes Kalvynex. The other four men of whom sat at the table bore furrowed and anticipated brows, eyeing one another carefully. “Alright,” said one of the men bearing a twenty-sided die, “the bid is as follows; if the die lands on one, three, seven or twenty, Gale wins the round. If the die tolls two, four, five or six, Mathias wins. Should the die land on eight, nine, eighteen or nineteen, Farkas wins. Should the die toll fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, or seventeen, Laertes wins. If it lands on a number between ten and thirteen, the house wins. Understood?” The four men nodded. “Alright, and…” The fifth man rolled the die. It landed upon the number three. The man known as Gale smiled. “Alright, your wages to me lads, be snappy about it!” Three of the men rolled their eyes, sending over their coin purses; with the exception of Ma’dran. “And you, Laertes?” Ma’dran emptied his pockets, shaking his head. “I have nothing…” The man bearing the die sighed. “Laertes, this is the third time that you refuse to pay. Pay Gale what he is due or we will call the guards for theft.” Ma’dran gasps. “But I have not a penny to spare!” The man bearing the dice stood, moving to the door. “Guard! Come quickly! Property has been stolen!” He turns back to Ma’dran. “It seems that your luck has run dry, Laertes. I would begin running if I were you.” Ma’dran stood, taking off for the door before the guard came, blocking his way. The guard rammed the butt of his spear to Ma’dran’s head, rendering him unconscious. Ma’dran awoke in the stocks the following evening as the citizens of Ardougne pelted him with various fruits vegetables. He winced, turning his head as an only defense. After a few hours, a pair of guards arrived, unlocking the binds and dragging Ma’dran to the entrance of the city itself. At this point, it had begun to rain profusely. The guards threw Ma’dran to the ground, caking his clothes and hair with mud as he landed face-first. “Come back when you are ready to abide by our laws, thief!” Wandering Forever More For the better part of the age, Ma’dran remained in the region of Kandarin, accepting work where he could find it. Ma’dran came to be ashamed of what he had become, begging in the streets for money, working on fishing boats to pay for housing. What disgusted Ma’dran most of all was the fact that he was once considered to be of Mahjarrat nobility, now reduced to a commoner of a so-called “lesser race”. Strangely, Ma’dran had always felt connected to the region of Kandarin, feeling that it was something sacred to his race. Though he was poor, reduced to a state of poverty beyond most, he refused to move on in search of fortune elsewhere, feeling that, because Kandarin was “sacred”, it was in his destiny to remain, and that whatever the Empty Lord had in store for him, he would find it there rather than to the east in the regions that would become known as Misthalin and Asgarnia. Ma’dran would stay in Kandarin for several decades, well over a century after losing what he had gained in Ardougne, refusing to travel east in search for opportunity. Weakened and Dying Night had fallen upon Gielinor as Ma’dran continued to travel in human form, draped in hooded robes with only his staff to support him. He coughed violently, seeing only the yellowish glowing lights from Witchaven as a heavy rain befell him. He collapsed as he tripped on a root, falling into a ditch, his ankle twisted. He looked over, watching the yellow glowing lights flicker. “Pathetic,” a voice within his mind addressed him, “you once had everything, power, influence, now all washed away. You are a sour excuse for a Mahjarrat. Now, you are more like them; the humans, those of whom you had once looked down upon, but now, even you have come to envy them. Pathetic...” Ma’dran lied back in the ditch, curled into a ball, his robes soaking wet. Ma’dran was weak, and knew that he needed to rejuvenate soon. But he missed the last rejuvenation, and he knew that he could not last for much longer. He continued to watch the lights, listening as the rain hit the ground about him. He was truly, utterly alone. It was then that the Mahjarrat saw the light. This light was not like that of a flame like in the village nearby, but rather different, a pale, brighter light. Ma’dran did not move for reasons even unknown to him. The light drew nearer. A tear ran down Ma’dran’s cheek. It was beautiful. He reached out to it, allowing the staff to roll from his hand and into the mud. As the light came closer and closer, it became brighter, and it felt strangely soothing to Ma’dran. He felt his worries, his fears, just wash away. He closed his eyes, feeling only the warmth and carelessness of the light come to him. He felt as though he was slowly, blissfully fading away. He embraced this feeling, seeing only light and feeling only warmth as he fell victim to sleep. In his slumber, Ma’dran dreamt of all that had happened in his life, his coronation as chieftain, the war against his brother, coming to Gielinor, all in tremendous detail. He relived these moments again and again for what seemed like forever, small details fading from memory until he dreamt only of darkness. Witchaven Tabula Rasa “Hey! Wake up!” The man stirred in the ditch, covered in his damp robes with a fishing pole laying nearby. The man’s eyes flickered open, squinting in the light of day. “You alright, friend?” The man began to sit up, feeling sudden pain in his ankle. “Looks like you had quite a fall, eh, lad?” The man in the ditch looked up to the other, of whom appeared to be a fisherman. “Aye…I believe so…” said the man in the ditch. '' ''“You sound like yer from around here by your accent. Got yerself a name, friend?” '' ''The man in the ditch scratched his head. “I…don’t quite know myself…” '' ''The fisherman helped the nameless man out of the ditch, leaning him against his shoulder for support. “Must’ve been quite a fall, eh?” The nameless man nodded, recalling a single syllable. “Ma...ma...” '' ''The fisherman glanced at him. “Once knew a man named Montressor, died a few years back…” '' ''The nameless man nodded. “Montressor…” The man from the ditch heard a name run through his mind. “…Gio...Giovanni…?” '' ''The fisherman looked to him again. “Montressor Giovanni?” This man, Montressor, nodded. “Well, Mister Giovanni, you seem to have twisted your ankle, probably hit your head. I’ll take ya home, see if I can patch ya up." Montressor sneezed a bit. “Probably got yourself a cold, too. Better get ya inside.” The Baileys The man that had found Montressor, a fisherman named Jakob Bailey, brought him back to his home in Witchaven, where he and his wife, Katheryn, gradually nursed Montressor back to health. Unfortunately, the Baileys soon discovered that Montressor had a serious case of retrograde amnesia; he had no memory of his life before the morning that he was found. Katheryn played the lute to Montressor as he healed, allowing a deep interest in the lute to grow within him. Katheryn took delight in teaching Montressor to play, showing him all that she knew. Montressor found that he was a quick learner, cherishing the time that he spent practicing with Katheryn. Montressor, having grown into quite the character by this time, soon found that, despite the fact that she was married to Jakob, he was in love with Katheryn. Though he felt strongly about her, Montressor knew that it was not right, and that if he followed these feelings, he would lead not only himself to ruin, but those who had rescued him as well. He kept his feelings for Katheryn hidden, promising himself never to act upon them. Jakob resolved that, if Montressor was to remain in Witchaven, he would need to learn how to fish. Jakob took Montressor with him to a nearby fishing platform, finding that Montressor, using the fishing pole that lied next to him the morning that he was found, was a natural-born fisherman. Montressor would later spend hours alone at the docks, fishing to his heart's delight. Jakob and Montressor commonly went to the market to sell the fish that Montressor had caught, granting them a good source of income to pay for necessities and taxes. Departure from Witchaven After having spent nearly a year in Witchaven, Montressor Giovanni had developed into an interesting character, taking joy in helping others, playing the lute, and even a bit of acting from time to time. Montressor came to truly enjoy the life that he now led in Witchaven. But Montressor felt that, as he was missing his memories from his life before his time in Witchaven, he was missing a part of himself, leaving him to feel a bit unfulfilled and incomplete. He resolved to leave Witchaven, for the time being, so that he may search the rest of Gielinor for any clues concerning his past that may help him to remember his true identity. He bid farewell to the Baileys, thanking them for all that they had done for him when they found him a year before. Katheryn was saddened by Montressor's departure, having always seen him as her own family. She gave Montressor her lute so that he may remember them when he played. Jakob had also seen Montressor as family, giving him the fishing pole that had been found at his side a year before. After a series of long goodbyes to those in Witchaven that he came to care for, Montressor set off on the road winding away from Witchaven, accompanied by Katheryn's lute and his fishing pole. In Search of an Identity The Cirque du Lumière After leaving Witchaven, Montressor had no idea where to begin searching for clues pertaining to who he truly was. He first traveled to the nearby city of Ardougne to find any leads that he could, but to no avail. Instead, he found a group of traveling performers, much like himself; a group known as the Cirque du Lumière, led by a gnome by the name of Fabinicci, of whom welcomed Montressor into the cirque with open arms. Montressor resolved to remain with the cirque as he searched for his true identity. He was introduced to his fellow performers, including a dancer and actress named Fleur, of whom Montressor had become smitten with. The two got along well, being that they were both patrons and performers of the fine arts. They carried out long conversations regarding acting, practicing lines for short scenes and skits together when they could. The two eventually began to court, resolving to put on acts and short plays together. They often spoke of marriage, though not seriously. Though the months that Montressor had spent among the cirque were among the best of his life, his time with them had yielded no answers as to who he truly was. With much difficulty, Montressor resigned from the cirque, reluctantly breaking his ties with many them, including Fleur. He continued to search with determination, beginning to question whether or not he would like what he found. Living in the Present After leaving the Cirque du Lumière, Montressor spent months in search of clues to his past, going to mages and psychologists aroung Gielinor for help, but to no avail. He commonly spent time in Varrock, reading through records in the city's library for similar circumstances to his own, finding that those who had suffered from retrograde amnesia had either discovered who they were from learning similar experiences to what they had done in the past or has moved on into a new life. Montressor, however, did not find this information to be particularly helpful. Seeing as he had no idea who he was in the past, he had no idea where to search for his past. He spent a bit of time in Varrock, playing in the Blue Moon Inn from time to time for the other patrons. This was when Montressor came to the realization that it was of no use searching the world over for information that he doubted that he would even find, and that who he was now, how he lived in the present, made him happy. He resolved to follow his present and future as opposed to his past, traveling from place to place so that he may meet new people, play for those who desired him to do so, and allow himself to enjoy the life that he had created for himself as Montressor Giovanni, as opposed to who he may have been before. Though he resolved to live this way, he also had decided to allow clues and leads concerning his past to present themselves to him, believing that if he was meant to know his past at all, it would come to find him. The Adventures of Montressor Giovanni The Tombs of Insanity Montressor had traveled to Al Kharid, looking for tales to tell and adventures to be had. He soon met Kharidian man named Marek, followed him was a mercenary, of whom had also met with a peculiar archaeologist in the area, bearing a scepter of unknown origin with powerful magical potential. Marek saw this scepter as sacred to the gods of the Menaphite Pantheon, questioning where the archeologist had retrieved such an item. The archeologist motioned for them to follow him into the desert, promising to show them the tomb from which he had retrieved it. Montressor followed, believing this to be an opportunity for adventure. As the archeologist led Montressor, Marek, and the mercenary into the desert, bandits attacked them from the sands. Marek used his abilities in magic to raise a sandstorm from the desert, blinding the bandits. One bandit fumbled about, blinded and in pain, passing by Montressor, of whom smashed the lute over the bandit’s head, rendering him unconscious. The archeologist led the group onward towards the mysterious tomb where he had found the scepter. They eventually made their way to the tomb located across the desert, continuing inside. As the others spoke, Montressor took note of the strange symbols adorning the room, similar to the symbols of the gods. He then looked over toward the gate-like wall adjacent to the entrance of the tomb. The archeologist claimed that the wall was a gateway to the infernal dimension itself, placing the scepter where he seemed to have found it. It was then that Montressor realized that the others became more tense, drawing weapons upon one another. Montressor then drew his fishing pole, without better judgment, when the mercenary charged toward him, a bow in his hand. Montressor shut his eyes, swinging about violently with the fishing pole before hearing the mercenary’s cries. He opened his eyes, realizing that he had caught the hook of the fishing pole on the mercenary’s lip. The mercenary slowly took the hook from his lip before charging toward Montressor again. Quickly, without any time to think, Montressor slammed the end of the fishing pole into the mercenary’s forehead, rendering him unconscious. This was when Montressor fled from the tombs, fleeing toward Shantay Pass so that he may return to civilization. The Dawn of the Sixth Age Montressor had made his to Falador, months after what had taken place in the tombs in the Kharidian desert, when he learned of the death of Guthix, the god of balance. He felt that the world had suffered a great loss, the greatest loss that it had ever suffered. With the death of Guthix, Montressor had heard that his edicts had now been shattered, allowing the gods to return once again to fight over Gielinor. Montressor resolved that, even in such times of strife, he would continue doing what he felt that he did best; providing happiness to those in need of it, whether the gods would return or not. The Man Named Nobody Montressor sat in the bar one day, drinking his fill of mead before coming across a peculiarly dressed man. Being the friendly soul that he came to become, Montressor greeted this man, introducing himself, as per his usual custom. This man claimed to be unable to introduce himself, for he suffered from anterograde amnesia, of which caused this man the inability to form new memories. Montressor saw a kindred spirit in this man of whom also suffered from loss of memories, coming to refer to him simply as “Nobody”. This man, Nobody, like Montressor, was a showman, particularly a magician by trade. They spoke, sharing with one another experiences in their various attempts to regain their memories, conversing about perhaps even hiring a skilled mage to gift their memories back upon them. Nobody bid Montressor farewell before leaving the tavern, seemingly fading from Montressor’s life entirely. This beckoned forth a new chapter in Montressor’s story, in which he first met another person of whom suffered from amnesia, anterograde or retrograde. The Armadylean-Bandosian Conflict It was not long after Saradomin and Zamorak had departed from their battleground when, mere months later, Armadyl, the god of justice, and Bandos, the god of war, fought over Falador. With this battle came new people, human or otherwise, for Montressor to take pleasure in meeting, cheering them on as they returned to battle for their chosen gods. Weeks after these gods had arrived, however, the mighty Bandos fell to his death through Armadyl’s divine weapons. Though the Bandosians had lost their god, Montressor did his best to encourage them to continue on in Bandos‘s stead, for that would be what their god would have wanted of them. The Adoption of Aimee Montressor was in the woods outside of Falador, late one morning, leaning against a Cliffside as he tuned and played his lute. Suddenly, something pounced upon him, causing him to lose balance and fall, dropping his lute. He shielded his face and eyes with his forearms as the creature that had befell him growled. He opened his eyes, looking up to see that it was a young girl, of whom could not have been more than fifteen years of age. '' ''She crawled backward, sitting a pace or two in front of Montressor as he, too, sat up. Montressor found this lass curious, for she had peculiar ears pinned to her hair, as well as a false tail pinned to her backside. He cautiously reached out and took the lute that he had dropped when she had pounced upon him, resting it against his knee. He slowly began to speak. “Hello…” Montressor said, still cautious of her. '' ''It was then that she uttered a word; “H-hi.” '' ''The sides of Montressor’s lips curled a bit. “You surprised me when you jumped on me from above.” He pointed to the peak of the Cliffside as he spoke. She tilted her head, understanding, but not accustomed to much human contact. Montressor pointed to himself. “I am Montressor.” The lass slowly pointed to herself. “I…Aimee.” Montressor smiled. “Well met, Aimee. Tell me, why did you jump me from up there?” Aimee raised her arms in a pouncing motion. “Fun.” Montressor chuckled a bit. “For fun? Commonly, people just say hello, but…Y’know, that’s not for everyone.” After a short silence, Aimee moved to stand. “Play?” Montressor raised an eyebrow. “Play?” “Play!” Aimee stood fully, running about in a circle, her false tail flapping about uselessly. '' ''Montressor chuckled, standing. “Sure. And…what would we be doing…?” Aimee simply turned, running about. Montressor shook his head as he turned. “Alright, then…” Aimee laughed, running about the area, occasionally looking back to Montressor. He took his lute, playing a soft melody as he followed her with his eyes, smiling. Montressor would close his eyes, continuing to play for her. Montressor could not help but wonder what had become of the lass’s family, if they knew that she was out in the wilds near Falador. Aimee eventually tired herself out, lying on the ground. “Tired…” she yawned. Montressor drew nearer, finishing his melody. “Do you have a home, little lass?” She looked over to Montressor, shaking her head. “No family?” he asked. She continued to shake her head, sitting up. Montressor made his way over, sitting next to her on the ground. Aimee cocked her head, her false ears falling a bit out of place. “So, you’re here,“ Montressor said, “all alone, then?” Aimee nodded. “Where do you come from, lass?” Aimee pointed towards the south. “Falador?” Aimee nodded her head. “Then what are you doing out here?” Aimee shrugged, fixing her false ear. “Play.” “Are you staying with anyone in Falador, lass?” Aimee shook her head. “You take care of yourself, then?” She nodded in response. “Strange…It seems that you aren’t really accustomed to human interaction. Why the get-up?” She would blink, clearly not understanding what he meant. Montressor nodded toward her false ears and tail. "Aimee, play." “Hm,” Montressor responded, “Interesting…I, myself, can’t remember where I came from.” Aimee crossed her arms, cocking her head. “Amnesia, they called it. Can’t remember a thing before three years ago.” Aimee tilted her head. “Am…ne-saa?” “Aye, memory loss…I suppose it has been more like four years now.” “Four.” “Aye,” Montressor sighed, “four.” “Papa.” Montressor tilted his head. “Hm?” “Papa.” She reached over to hold onto his leg. Montressor smiled, allowing this. “I see.” she hugged onto his leg. “Well, I don’t exactly have a roof over my head, but you’re more than welcome to stay with me, little lass.” He would smile to the girl with false ears and a tail. Montressor began to stand, Aimee still clinging to his leg. Montressor chuckled. “You could come with me, little lass.” “Papa!” Aimee stood, clinging to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Montressor smiled, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Papa!” Montressor chuckled a bit. “Alright, alright. I’m here.” Aimee smiled brightly, laughing. “I’m a bard by trade, so if you wish to stay with me, we will travel a good bit, lass.” “Tra-vel!” Montressor smiled. “Aye, anywhere in Gielinor.” “Gie-lin-or!” He chuckled again “Aye. The question is, where to go first?” “Where, where!” Aimee laughed again, hugging him tighter. Montressor hugged her back, smiling at the thought of having a new daughter. Personality At a time, Ma’dran could be best described as dark, determined, and apathetic toward the dealings of mortals, relentless in battle and mostly interested in his own self-preservation, caring for the well-being of few other than Kathlaron and his former love, Vaetherya. Ma’dran craved power, particularly knowledge and strategy to use during confrontations, despite having little patience or use for magic in his endeavors. There was a time when Ma’dran would have obeyed every command set forth for him by Zaros without a word in question, expecting those beneath him to do the same. Due to the loss of his memories and rebirth as Montressor Giovanni, he became more kind, helpful, empathetic, and became more able to reason with what would be considered as right and wrong. Montressor became more pacifistic, in contrast to his former persona, abiding by the law as well as his own moral compass. Montressor is more fluent, calm, and far more jovial and fun-loving than he once was as Ma’dran. As a result, he is more confident and charismatic when interacting with others. He is very accepting of those different from him, unlike Ma'dran, only judging others by the way they treat one another. Physical Appearance Montressor Facial Montressor has dark hazel eyes, seemingly more brown with mere flecks of green that seem as cheerful and kind as they are experienced and old. Physically, Montressor seems to be in his late twenties to early thirties, seeming to constantly have a glint in his eye accompanied by a warm, welcoming smile etched upon his lips. He has unkempt, mahogany-brown hair, paralleled by a short, equally unkempt beard. There are some that would describe him as “handsome” for a man of his profession, not only due to his welcoming face, but also due to his personality. His tanned skin tone would suggest that he may be of distant Kharidian-Misthalite heritage, making it seem as though he is rather well-traveled. Bodily & Physique Montressor stands at a full height of six feet, give or take an inch or two, and always stands straight and tall, appearing to have good posture for one of his ‘economic status’. One may describe him as muscular in build, appearing to have strength rivaling that of a Fremennik, though he does not appear to ever take advantage of this. His fingers are slender, though calloused, showing that he practices often with his lute, his nails well-kept and trimmed, appearing to have a writer’s callous on his right ring-finger. Despite having calloused fingers from his work, his hands, though appearing strong and masculine, are slender and gentle, needing to be as such in the maintenance of his lute. Attire Montressor is commonly seen wearing a vanilla-colored, silken shirt, as well as a set of darker, seemingly Kharidian trousers and boots made from a seemingly rougher, more sturdy material intended for traveling in deserts and harsh landscapes, such as he often must. Around his neck hangs a peculiar amulet bearing the appearance of a battleaxe. Montressor wears a travelers pack, carrying his supplies needed for travel, including his lute. To his side, hung from his belt, hangs his coinpurse, made from a darker brown, seemingly Kharidian material. Ma'dran Facial During his time as Ma’dran, his face could be considered as gaunt and thin, even for a Mahjarrat. His flesh was rough, scarred from battles, his lips seemingly always cracked. Ma’dran’s eyes, described by many as rings of blood adorning two obsidian stones, were always cruel, cold, and calculating. Like all Mahjarrat, his appearance could be considered as nearly lich-like, cold, gaunt. However, due to having missed the past few rituals of rejuvenation, Ma’dran appears to be much less nourished in contrast to the others of his kind. In fact, it is not often that he does not don a peculiar helmet designed for him in battle that masks his gaunt, malnourished face from his enemies. Around his ashen-colored, scarred neck hangs an amulet bearing the appearance of a battleaxe, the symbol of the Skchaelos Clan. Bodily & Physique In his full form, Ma’dran stood at a height of nearly eight and a half feet, towering over few of his kind. He would be considered as a rather large Mahjarrat, having broad shoulders and extended, powerful limbs, allowing him a vast amount of strength, mostly depending upon this strength to wield certain weaponry with ease, as well as for the sake of intimidating his foes and rivals. Many belonging to the Skchaelos Clan, Kathlaron in particular, would say that he was certainly built as a warrior, rivaled by few. Skills & Attributes Social Charisma Ever since his rebirth as a human, Montressor has found that speaking and interacting with others is a skill that feels more than natural to him. As he converses and interacts, he feels that it is in his nature to find allies and friends in others, able to call upon them when in times of serious need, though these occasions do not manifest very often for one of his profession. Multilingualism Through his line of work, Montressor has learned several languages with ease, including Fremennik, Dwarven, and broken Kharidian in addition to the common tongue. Musicianship Ever since Katheryn Bailey first played the lute to Montressor as he was healing in Witchaven, he has always had a passion for music, especially music that is a product of the lute or the bagpipes. Montressor is proud to say that he is quite adept in the use of the lute, though feels that he has much to learn before advancing from the practice chanter to the actual bagpipes. Physical Strength and Combat Montressor exercises every now and then, though he appears as though he would not be required to do so. His strength was carried from the experiences that he had in his current form before losing his memories, and rivals that of a Fremennik warrior, though Montressor is gentle in nature and has little use of this strength. He could hold his own if absolutely required to fight, but has retained little to no experience in actual combat, hand-to-hand or otherwise. Personal Inventory Weaponry *Technically, Montressor does not carry any actual weapons with him, though if completely necessary, he will use any equipment that he does carry in self-defense. Jewelry *'Skchaelean Amulet:' An amulet bearing the sign of the Skchaelos Clan of Freneskae, given to Ma'dran by his father, Hyllcroth, when he died and made Ma'dran the new chieftain of the Clan. It resembles a battleaxe with a hilt of crimson gilded with gold. Musical Instruments *'Lute:' Given to Montressor by Katheryn Bailey when he left Witchaven to pursue information of his past. It is finely crafted, able to create beautiful and graceful music if played correctly. The lute is Montressor's most cherished item, taking constant care of it, making sure that it is always well-tuned before playing. It seems to be of an Eastern design, though it clearly bears elements of Western craftsmanship. A representation of this lute is shown above. *'Practice Chanter:' Used as a practice instrument for the bagpipes. It is somewhat similar in appearance, though slightly smaller than the bagpipe chanter, and has a top piece so it can be blown directly from the mouth. It is also used as a first instrument so that learners can initially learn the finger technique before learning the mechanics of playing the actual bagpipes. Montressor purchased this practice chanter while in Catherby, hoping to learn how to master it before learning the bagpipes themselves. Miscellaneous *'Fishing Pole: '''Found at Montressor's side when he was first discovered in a ditch by Jakob Bailey. It appears to be flexible and strong, able to catch fish nearly twenty pounds in weight. Something about the fishing pole allows fish to become drawn to it, allowing Montressor to catch fish with more ease than most. Unbeknownst to Montressor, this fishing pole is, in truth, Ma'dran's staff, used to perform powerful charms and destruction spells. When Ma'dran lost his memories, the staff changed its form to that of a fishing pole through built in illusion magics and charms. *'Tinderbox: Given to Montressor by the Baileys when he left Witchaven. It contains flint, steel, and tinder so that he may light fires when in need of them. *'Map: '''Another essential given to Montressor by Jakob and Katheryn Bailey when he set off from Witchaven. It details most of the accessible mainland, from Kandarin to Al Kharid. It has been very useful to Montressor in his travels across Gielinor. *'Small Notebook: 'Bought by Montressor during a bit of time that he spent in Varrock. Montressor uses it to write notes on songs that he wishes to write and perform. It has a thin, dyed pale blue leather-like strap binding it closed, as well as a thick leather cover. The notebook itself contains nearly two hundred pages, several of those pages containg ideas for music to be played, as well as some of Montressor's adventures and descriptions of people of whom he has met throughout his travels and finds of note. *'Coinpurse: Hanging from Montressor's belt is a small purse of gold made from a bit of cloth and leather. Much of his income consists of what he has earned throughout his travels as a bard and fisherman. Montressor's coinpurse contains the following: **'Gold:' (x173) *'Length of Rope: '''Provided by the Baileys when Montressor left from Witchaven. When uncoiled, this length of rope is close to one-hundred twenty-five feet in length. Relations Parental *Hyllcroth............................................Father(Deceased) *Ellisike...............................................Mother(Deceased) *Vaetherya..........................................Step-Mother, Formerly in Courtship(Deceased) Siblings *Kathlaron............................................Brother *Tyrannus............................................Half-Brother(Deceased) Partners *Vaetherya............................................Step-Mother, Formerly in Courtship(Deceased) *Fleur du'Noir........................................Formerly in Courtship Children *Aimee...................................................Adopted Daughter Extended Family *Arashi Ravencroft...............................Nephew *Emyris Bayne......................................Nephew *Freyja Gaz-Bayne...............................Grand-Niece *???......................................................Grand-Nephew Trivia *Montressor is by default right-handed, but wishes to learn to become ambidextrous so that he may, in a way, become more skilled. *He offers his services as a bard and actor for hire to those who require his skills for private employment. *Montressor's accent may be described as one of Asgarnian-Kandar origin, specifically one that would be found in sea-bordering areas such as Witchaven, perhaps even Taverley. *Mead is a favorite of Montressor's, claiming that it helps the throat due to its honey content. *As a human being, Montressor follows a code of personal chivalry and enlightenment, believing that his actions as a man should be noble and just and that, to be truly happy, he must do good to others around him and do what he enjoys while he can. *Montressor has taken to chewing mint leaves to improve his breath. *Montressor's name is a reference to ''Cask of Amontillado, a short-story by Edgar Allan Poe. *Given that Montressor retains no memory of his past as Ma'dran, he has become very accepting, looking past boundaries such as race, social status, sexuality and religion, seeing every mortal as equal. *Despite being oblivious not only to the fact that he is a Mahjarrat, but that the Mahjarrat even exist, Montressor is categorized as a division two Mahjarrat under the Divisional Split Theory. Category:Characters Category:Male Category:Protagonist Category:Mahjarrat Category:Humans Category:Adventurer Category:Entertainers Category:Political Figure Category:Military Category:Lawful Category:Good Category:Pacifist Category:Zarosian Category:Godless Category:Ancient Magic user Category:Fremennik Category:Misthalin Category:Asgarnia Category:Kandarin Category:Falador Category:Commoners